


She's a maniac

by god-heda (ChocDog)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodlust, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Lexa, Making Love, Master/Pet, Scissoring, Semi-Public Sex, Sub!lexa, There is actually plot though don't be fooled, Top!Clarke, Vaginal Fingering, actually they're both pretty possessive, bloodkink kinda, grounder!clarke, more oral fixation Lexa because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocDog/pseuds/god-heda
Summary: [AU where everything is the same but the Grounders are a race of sexual deviants who wear animal pelts and are super extra, and Clarke is the co-Commander after she abandoned Arkadia for Lexa]The Ark has always been her home. It still is. She has to come back, and it's Bellamy's responsiblity to make sure she does. Six months in Polis is nothing compared to all those years they'd spent together. After all, there's absolutely nothing appealing about the Commander of the Twelve Clans walking behind your on a leash, right?He will bring her back. It doesn't matter who gets in the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I based the Grounders in this AU off of Beserkers; they were these badass viking warriors who wore animal skins and went ape shit in battle while wearing practically nothing. They're not exactlyyyy the same, actual Beserkers were a little too intense, but they definitely served as inspriation for this.

_“We need to rise above them. They’re savages. We are the superior clan, it’s just that simple.”_

_“I agree.”_

_“I knew you would, that’s why I’m entrusting you on this mission. I know you won’t let me down. You know as well as I do how ridiculous it is that we bow to a clan of nymphos and animals.”_

_“It’s just logic, Chancellor.”_

_“Logic that Kane and the others can’t see. But we do. You’re a brave young man.”_

_“I’m sure it’ll be easy. She’ll probably beg me to take her home, in fact.”_

_“I sure hope so. Good luck.”_

 

***

 

There was once a time, so long ago it might as well have been the Stone Age, that Clarke had felt foreign here. 

She was once the outsider, the alien, the cat among wolves. And she’d been treated as such; harassed, mocked, there had even been attempts on her life.

Six months later and it was like she’d been living here all her life.

Healers and soldiers alike bowed to her as she strutted high and mighty across the Square, the tail of the mountain lion pelt she wore dragging behind her. The beast had been butchered to the point that it was practically a cape; its head served as a hat, secured by its fangs that clutched Clarke’s forehead. Its once powerful forearms were tied in front of Clarke’s chest, while the rest of it dangled at her back.

There had once been a time when such morbid sights had frightened the woman, but such a time was now as lost to her as the Ark was. She offered small nods to the other warriors as they passed her, lowering themselves down in signs of respect for their second Commander.

The first one was at the other end of the village, quite literally, locking horns with Aden. When Clarke arrived at the clearing where they trained, the cow skull Aden wore as a helmet was clashing with Lexa’s sword; unfortunately losing.

In one quick swipe of her long, powerful legs the boy was lying flat on his face in the dirt, the superior warrior’s sword tapping the back of his neck.

_“Ge op.”_ Lexa spat, snarling like a beast in that way Clarke especially loved. It was always a treat to see the great Commander in combat, almost completely exposed but still emerging unscathed nearly every time.

Trikru, like many other clans, had long since abandoned armour; and clothing for that matter. The nature of their society meant that it was simply a nuisance at best. This way, every warrior was free to flaunt their bodies like so many of them lived to do, not to mention their athleticism in battle when not weighed down.

Currently, Lexa donned her shoulder-pad and cape, but very little else. Thin cloth bindings hid her breasts, and what had once been full length pants but were now shredded-up shorts protected a good part of her legs. As per tradition, a racoon tail was fastened into her hair by her braids; her associative animal. 

When she turned to face Clarke, who was leaning absentmindedly against a bordering tree, it was revealed that her war paint also decorated her features, as well as the Commander’s Medallion that shone between her eyebrows. 

Lexa offered her partner a smile in greeting, but quickly turned back to Aden, who had obeyed his order and was charging yet again towards his commander.

“You are too aggressive.” Lexa sighed, blocking his spear attack with only a quick movement of her sword. “I can hear you coming from a mile away.”

Aden ignored the criticism and continued to clash weapons, a loud _clang_ echoing through the clearing with each collision.

“I thought this was the way of Trikru, aggression.”

“You are right.” _Clang._ “But only during great battles, army to army.” _Clang._ “In solo combat-“

Lexa dodged the heavy-handed swing Aden had made with his spear and kicked him to the ground, her sword once again pressing against his skin as he lay defeated. “It is better to be strategic.”

“Says the one who ripped a man’s throat out with her bare hands.” Clarke called out.

Lexa rolled her eyes, sheathing her blade and extending a hand out to her Second. The boy adjusted his wonky helmet and stood again, no sign of tears on his face despite the various bruises and cuts visible on his bare upper-half. 

“Good effort today. We will continue tomorrow.”

Aden nodded, and moved to fix his helmet which had slid down his face again, but Lexa’s hand on his wrist stopped him. “If it doesn’t fit you well, there is always another. You may not have found it yet.”

“When did you find yours?”

Lexa smiled at the ground. “That is a story for another day. I’m sure you are-“

“I found mine when I slayed one after it scratched a scar into my back.” said Clarke, who had wandered over to the pair. “Now it comes with me everywhere.” She added as she held the thinned-out forelegs of the creature, pressing them against her chest.

“It’s very fitting, Wanheda.” Aden remarked, beaming at her.

“He’s right.” Lexa added, flicking Clarke’s braids. “You gave him the mane he never had.”

Clarke ginned and started towards Lexa, but a brief hand on her chest stopped her. “Aden, dismissed.” she said, without looking away from the blonde.

The young Nightblood knew this atmosphere well enough, so without another word he bounded off onto the path back to the square.

“So modest today.” Lexa commented, her eyes rolling over Clarke’s figure. It was true, she wore the same breast-bindings her partner did, only with an open Skaikru jacket over the top, accompanied by full-length pants and clunky boots. She almost looked like a Sky Person again, were it not for the huge cougar corpse on her back and the deep blue war paint sharpening her eyes.

“Forgive me for not prancing around half-naked.” Clarke mused, her own eyes tracing over Lexa’s long, exposed body. She returned her gaze to the brunette's face and pulled her head forward to press their lips together, gentle until their lips inevitably parted and Clarke’s tongue invaded.

Post-training kisses were some of Clarke’s favourites; the familiar taste of blood was occasionally present: the wine Lexa spilt whenever she suffered a mouth injury, or bit the inside of her cheek too hard. Which she did frequently. On purpose. Lexa was animalistic in many ways. 

Chewing habits aside, many of these traits had influenced Clarke; the sight of blood had once triggered her healing nature, now, the mere smell of it made her head pound and her erupted goosebumps all over her body.

It wasn’t just a Trikru thing. Almost every grounder possessed this awkward yet terrifying trait. Before battle it was almost a necessity to draw one’s blood, be it your own or a comrade’s, to set off the bloodlust-driven spree of destruction. 

Lexa made a pained sound suddenly, shoving Clarke away and wiping her mouth. “Don’t bite.”

Clarke licked the fresh, black blood off her lips, her pupils like the reflection of a full moon on a calm, blue ocean. “Maybe later.” she said, eyes locked on Lexa’s lips. The ‘maybe’ was purely comical.

“No.” Lexa snapped, the sight of her own blood on her partner’s lips igniting that same blaze she couldn’t deny the rage of. “I’ve changed my mind. Now.”

Lexa barely finished her sentence before Clarke pounced like the agile cougar she wore on her back, her tongue darting into Lexa’s mouth while her arms wrapped around her back. The two stumbled backwards until Lexa’s rear hit a tree, which Clarke promptly pinned her against by closing the gap between them, pressing her body up against the taller woman’s.

Clarke sucked up the blood slowly leaking from the bite she’d left on Lexa’s lower lip, conceding that it wasn’t enough and biting into her neck instead. The Commander let out a breathy gasp that clouded over her in the morning cold and threw her head back to give Clarke more room, taking her bleeding lip between her own teeth to keep from moaning out loud. It was futile; Clarke was on a mission and as always, she would complete it. While she sucked at Lexa’s neck, her hand slipped beneath the brunette’s loose shorts and even looser undergarments, a finger stroking up and down her slit.

“Wait, Klark, I’m not-“

“I know.” The blonde growled against Lexa’s neck, withdrawing her fingers from the Commander’s pants only to stuff two of them into her mouth. “Get these wet instead.”

Normally, sucking Clarke’s fingers was a comforting measure, a treat, but this time it was anything but. Lexa’s piercing jade eyes stared Clarke’s stormy seas down, her tongue swirling over the fingers in her mouth, teeth pressing down only slightly. 

When she felt they were good and drenched, Clarke pulled them away, pulling Lexa’s head forward with them as the brunette moved to keep them in her mouth for longer.

“Better.” Clarke said as she slipped them back into Lexa’s pants, discovering they weren’t the only wetness to be found there. It was no surprise; any time Clarke allowed Lexa to use her mouth like that, a storm was soon to follow.

“Mm…” Lexa hummed with a content smile when Clarke slipped a finger into her heat, adjusting her legs further apart to make it easier. She tangled a hand into Clarke’s blonde mess of locks and pushed her back to her neck, missing the feel of her teeth in her flesh.

Clarke flicked her tongue over the mark she’d already left, targeting the skin directly below it to latch on to. Lexa gasped, both at the sensation of Clarke’s bite, and her fingers now massaging her clit. Pressed so inhumanely close, there wasn’t much room to manoeuvre, so Clarke skipped the teasing and applied her pressure straight to the point.

Lexa cursed in Trig and steadied herself on the tree behind her, the nails of her free hand digging into the bark. The rest of them were still buried in Clarke’s hair, holding on for dear life as the woman sucked it out of her neck.

In her now soaked undergarments, Clarke continued her offensive movements, switching from harsh rubbing to pumping her fingers in and out, so deep Clarke felt her lover’s heat all the way through her hand.

When her fingers had disappeared all the way inside was when Lexa would cry out, and Clarke knew exactly why. She harassed the spot, rubbing and prodding and pressing her thumb against Lexa’s throbbing clit in a ruthless attack. It wasn’t easy given their location, but Clarke found a way. She always did.

_“K-Klark, ah!”_

The Commander of Death let out an animalistic snarl against Lexa’s neck and shoved her fingers as far as her crease would allow her, wanting to feel her walls pulse and squeeze as she came as much as possible. 

While she was still shaking and groaning, Clarke kissed her way up to Lexa’s ear, pressing close to whisper against it; “Good girl…”

“Mmm…”

Clarke withdrew her drenched fingers, sucking Lexa’s essence off them while the brunette pulled her pants back up, ruined undergarments included.

“I should change…” Lexa sighed, wiping away the sweat that had begun to bead at her forehead.

“No.” Clarke asserted, raising her chin in that adorably dominant way Lexa liked. “Leave them on during the meeting. You can sit in your own mess and address your people.”

The Commander opened her mouth to protest but Clarke silenced her with only a mere glare. “Come on, we don’t wanna be late.”


	2. Chapter 2

Despite Clarke’s orders, Lexa did indeed change her attire prior to the meeting. Even in a society as promiscuous as hers, formal occasions demanded a certain degree of formality; in Lexa’s case this involved a dark, lace bodice and matching lingerie, and on top of it, she sported a huge, fluffy robe made from the furs that had once belonged to a bear. Now, it’s purpose was not only keeping the Commander warm, but concealing the hidden blades she wore strapped to her thighs underneath it.

On the other hand, Clarke wore the same golden, flowing dress she’d worn when she’d first swore fealty to Lexa all those months ago. Together, the pair made quite the intimidating duo; Lexa perched on Clarke’s thigh, the blonde seated grandly atop the throne. 

“What’s first on the schedule, Titus?” Clarke asked.

“The weekly ambassador meeting, but it appears that has been postponed due to a disagreement between Delfikru and Azgeda on the way to Polis.” said Titus, without looking away from the door he stared at as he stood beside the throne.

The old man was weary; even after all this time he still did not trust Clarke, and certainly didn’t deem her worthy of the throne he’d devoted his life to protecting. 

But regardless of his personal grievances towards the former Sky Person, Trikru has accepted her leadership with open arms, and he was morally bound to serve her just as he did Lexa. “We will begin with today’s punishments.”

Clarke waved the hand that wasn’t clutching Lexa’s rear forward, signalling her agreement. Titus nodded and yelled something in Trigedasleng at the entry guards, who then each pulled open one of the large throne room doors to reveal only a single convict; flanked by two more soldiers.

“Well, don’t you look the part.” Clarke mocked, earning a hum of amusement from the woman on her lap. 

Her teasing was warranted; the criminal had seemingly lost all his clothes on the way here, save for a dirtied loincloth. Then again, this attire wasn’t uncommon for many men of Polis, only most of them bedazzled themselves with pelts, bones and the like, to separate themselves from the common street rat.

To separate themselves from men like the one currently on his knees before the two of the most fierce Commanders that ever ruled. One of his eyes and the skin around it had swollen to the size of a fist; the obvious result of a brawl that apparently had not swung in his favour.

“This man was caught last night on a drunken rage, Heda.” One of the guards announced, addressing both Commanders at once with the singular title. “He broke both the arms of the man who’s mate he tried to take.”

“You trespassed on property?” Lexa asked, her arms instinctively curling tighter around Clarke’s body at the mention of the subject.

While cheating was not outlawed in Polis, advances made towards someone already claimed by someone else were a punishable offence in some instances. Trikru valued their communal and romantic bonds to the point where acts of murder in the name of defence of a loved one where pardoned almost instantly. 

“She was too fine to resist.” The man said with a remorseless shrug. “I was willing to take my chances.”

Clarke rolled her warpaint smeared eyes, absentmindedly stroking one of Lexa’s thighs underneath her robe, an action the Commander appreciated by nuzzling her face into Clarke’s neck. “I’m gonna assume you forgot the laws of the land while you were drunk.”

“What, you mean that stupid no trespassing rule?”

“That _law_ exists to minimise competition and unnecessary conflict.” Titus countered. “We are not animals, not completely. We do not squabble among ourselves for the most suitable mate.”

“That is utterly ridiculous.”

While Titus and the criminal argued, Lexa stretched her body in a cat-like manner before curling up in Clarke’s lap, the seat of the throne only just wide enough for her to successfully do this. Flattered by her affections, Wanheda welcomed the new position by carding her fingers through Lexa’s hair, resulting in a small, comfortable purr from the brunette.

Such an arrangement hadn’t been witnessed for a while; Lexa usually managed to keep her adoration for Clarke under control during formal gatherings like this. They decided who would sit on the throne and who would stand through a game Lexa had ironically dubbed ‘rutting’. The Commanders would spend their mornings prior to a meeting tangled up in one another, feasting away between the opposite set of legs; whoever crumbled and came undone first was the loser.

And the winner, in all their glory, would get to sit victoriously upon the throne, safe in the knowledge that their skills had proved superior that day. Clarke was still trying to figure out how to feel about the fact that nine times out of ten, that person was Lexa. And the tenth time, she was almost certain was the result of Lexa simply not trying as hard as could, for Clarke’s sake.

Today however, was different. The Commander was gone when Clarke woke up, her sporadic training sessions with Aden always commencing at dawn when they occurred. When the rut didn’t happen, or when Lexa was feeling particularly needy, this was the result. 

Wanheda, and her luxurious pet.

“Enough of this!” Titus yelled finally, turning both the Commander’s heads in his direction. Thankfully, he was still addressing the man on his knees. “Your excuses have no backbone, and neither do you if you can’t restrain yourself from another warrior’s mate.”

“Perhaps you should wake up and realize envy isn’t attractive in men.” said Clarke with a shrug.

The criminal flicked his eyes between the Commanders, a troublesome smirk materializing on his muddy face. “Perhaps you should wake up and realize some men are attractive no matter what. Certainly more than the company you keep, Wanheda.” he added, nodding to the taller of the women.

Clarke heard a growl rumbling in Lexa’s throat, but rubbed along her back to soothe her. “My partner,” Clarke began, eyes narrowed. “Is-“

“Not good enough for you. Why settle for this scrawny display when you could-“

This time, Clarke didn’t bother trying to prevent the tornado that was the Commander. Lexa was on her feet, dagger pulled from a sheath on her leg and pressed to the man’s neck, tattoos bulging on bare, toned arms before her robe had even landed on the ground. 

“You will be lucky if I don’t feed you to my wolves after this.” Lexa seethed, one hand on the man’s head, pressing him into the blade she held with her other.

Clarke took a moment to appreciate Heda’s beautiful, exposed form, shooting a cautionary glare to one of the guards who seemed to be enjoying it a little too much himself.

“Do it.” The accussed spat, pressing his neck hard enough against the blade to spill a line of crimson. “Prove to me you’re no better than a possessive dog.”

The commander snarled and readied her blade for an execution, wielding it how she would a sword despite its small size.

_“Chil yo, Leksa.”_ Clarke asserted from behind her, rising to her feet. Lexa tensed but didn’t sheathe her blade, or desist her determined glare for that matter. _“Hod op.”_

Lexa felt a rush of heat wash over her at Clarke's use of her mother tongue, a sound she was instantly turned into no matter what context it was used in, be it battle or bedroom. She did, of course, prefer the latter; the broken strings of Trigedasleng that would fall from Clarke's lips while she worked between her thighs was music to Lexa's ears.

And indeed, after a tense moment of silent glaring, Lexa sighed and withdrew her weapon. “Throw him in a dungeon.” She conceded, moving to stand next to Clarke, who reassuringly pulled her closer by the hip. “We will deal with him later.”

_“Sha, Heda.”_ The guards agreed, dragging the smirking prisoner away. But before they could reach the exit, another warrior burst through the doors, shaking with what was either terror or excitement. 

“Skaikru!” He bellowed, looking more at Clarke than he was anyone else. “A Sky Person is here!”

Both Titus and Lexa immediately turned to Clarke for instructions. The blonde swallowed, feeling just as discomforted as the soldier at the door was beneath her stern, commanding gaze. “Bring them to me.”

The overly excited warrior nodded vigorously and dashed out of the room, followed much more calmly by the two guards moving to dispose of the criminal. 

Not so calm, however, was the Flamekeeper. “What are they doing here?!” Titus demanded, glaring at Clarke with all the intensity of a man who didn’t believe himself capable of being wrong. Lexa glared at her teacher, silently reminding him that Clarke was here to stay, regardless of the intentions of this new... vistior.

“I don’t know.” Clarke answered, and she meant it. She hadn’t heard a word from her previous people since arriving here first as Lexa’s prisoner, then as her bedmate, and finally, her partner in Command. The Coalitions’ relationship with Skaikru had always been poor, but no clan cared quite enough to declare war, or anything other than simply ignore them for that matter. 

When the warrior returned, he brought with him a tall figure in Skaikru military uniform, their hands bound with rope and a sack over their head. “Here, Wanheda.” The warrior announced, leading the person to the center of the room before retreating backwards. 

At the sight of a large, gaping wound present on the Sky Person’s leg Clarke immediately understood the warrior who’d brought him here’s rambunctiousness; he’d spilt the person’s blood, he was struggling not to rip him to shreds.

_“Mochof.”_ said Clarke, waving her hand to dismiss the warrior before he lost control. Aware of Titus’s eyes drilling holes into the back of her head as she approached the man, she yanked away the sack to reveal a handsome, freckled face and untamed curly hair. Six months wasn’t nearly enough to erase this face from her memory.

“Bellamy.”

“Hey princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossed vocabulary:
> 
> -Chil uo=easy  
> -Hod op=wait  
> -Chof=Thank you
> 
> Yeah no smut this chapter but don't worry, it'll come ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke wasn’t surprised to see Bellamy’s appearance had changed somewhat in the months she’d been absent from Arkadia. The young man had earned some stubble, and his unkempt hair now almost covered his ears in its bushiness. However, he still possessed that impeccable jaw and warm, kind eyes Clarke now realized she had missedin her time away.

Behind her, Lexa bristled as Clarke untied Bellamy’s hands and embraced him in a hug, one which he happily reciprocated. The brunette scooped her robe up off the floor and wrapped it around herself again, suddenly feeling over-exposed in the presence of another Sky Person.

“What are you- actually, wait. Lexa, come here.” Clarke said.

Swallowing her feelings, Lexa clasped her hands behind her back and strode forward, chin held high as if she was addressing a subordinate. _“Monin, Belomi kom Skaikru.”_

Bellamy raised an eyebrow at Clarke, who rolled her eyes and placed a calm but firm hand on Lexa’s lower back. _“Chich op em Gonasleng in.”_ she stated. It wasn’t a suggestion.

Lexa’s jaw shifted, and Clarke knew she was chewing away at her inner cheek in unwarranted anger she would address later. “Welcome, Bellamy of the Sky People.” Lexa repeated.

“Awfully friendly, aren’t you?” Bellamy said, tilting his head and placing his hands on his hips, dangerously close to the pistol that was strapped to his thigh.

Lexa heard footsteps behind her; Titus moving to intercept. Without turning, she raised one hand in the air to stop him. “Forgive me for what happened at Mount Weather.”

“Why should I?”

Sensing the growing tension, Clarke stepped between the two, pushing Lexa back as opposed to Bellamy. “Hey, let’s just chill out. What are you doing here Bellamy?”

The man gave a small shake of his head before looking down at the blonde. “Clarke can we talk in private?”

Clarke didn’t have to look to know Lexa was likely steaming at the ears by now. “Okay.”

“Klark-“

“Wanheda-“

Both Commander and Flamekeeper had begun to protest, but a raised hand silenced both at once. “Give us a minute. Titus, take his guns.”

Bellamy threw Clarke a questioning look, but she only answered with a shrug. “Just let him. You’ll get them back soon.”

Titus ripped the pistol off Bellamy’s thigh and snatched his machine gun off his back, muttering incoherent disapprovals as he did so.

Once stripped of his weaponry, Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand, an action that made Lexa chomp down on her inner cheek so hard she tasted iron, and moved to exit the room. “Continue with the meeting without me, I’ll be back later.” 

Lexa turned her back to Clarke, already starting towards the throne.

“Well goodbye to you too.” The blonde huffed in response to the silence, dragging Bellamy with her as she marched out of the room.

She walked with Bellamy down the hallway, letting go of his hand at some point, until they arrived at Clarke and Lexa’s shared room. “What are you doing?” Bellamy asked as stood at the door, watching Clarke rummage through a closet.

“We’re gonna go for a walk, but first you have to change.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“They- _We,_ don’t take too kindly to Skaikru around here anymore.”

Bellamy frowned. “So it’s we now? Huh?”

Clarke returned from her wardrobe scavenging, holding what appeared to be the head of a crocodile, and a roll of bandages. Setting the head aside for a moment, she knelt to hastily wrap the bandages around the wound on Bellamy’s leg; it was sloppy but she didn’t have time for proper treatment. “Take off your shirt and hold out your arm.”

Although confused, Bellamy obeyed, and once his upper half was bare Clarke shoved the crocodile head onto it like a sleeve, so it looked like the head was growing out of his shoulder and devouring his arm. Straps joined the top half of the head and its lower jaw, allowing Clarke to fasten it so it would not slip off while he walked. 

“What the hell is this?”

“It was an Ascension gift from Floukru actually. I got it when I sat alongside Lexa on the throne for the first time.”

“That’s not what I-“

“I know.” Clarke answered, stepping back to admire her work. Without his shirt and in the accompaniment of an associative animal, Bellamy could almost pass for Trikru. Hopefully no one would look at him too hard once they left the tower. “I’ll explain everything to you only if you do the same.”

Bellamy raised his eyes to the heavens. She hadn’t changed at all, all business, all diva. “Fine.” he began, slapping a hand on the crocodile head secured on his arm. “You first, start with this.”

Clarke winced at his force, but decided he didn’t warrant a lecture on the respect one must have for the animals that sacrificed their bodies for armour and decoration. He was Skaikru, after all.

“We wear the skin of our beast partners.” Clarke explained, running a hand over her own cloak as it rested on the back of a chair. She hoisted it up and secured its hollowed-out head on her own, pulling its forearms down over her chest. “This one is mine.”

“A mountain lion.” Bellamy stated, flashing an amused smirk that made Clarke’s skin crawl just a little. She pushed the feeling down and strode past him back into the hallway, knowing he would follow.

“Yes, that is our way. When you find your connection, its custom that you carry them with you wherever you can."

Bellamy suddenly felt small walking beside Clarke, despite their hefty height difference. Here, she was even more confident and fierce than he remembered her being, strutting around wearing a cougar corpse and a face streaked with dark paint. 

She was beautiful; in a deranged way.

“Okay, well, is there a reason you guys are prancing around wearing next to nothing?” Bellamy asked, gesturing to the warriors that now walked all around them; they had arrived outside and were strolling through the square.

Clarke bit her lip. Her explanation for that wasn’t quite as spiritual. “To put it simply,” she began, her cheeks lifting in a smile that once upon a time would have been a blush instead. “We are very open with our sexualities. “

Bellamy’s eyes fell upon a man in a collar trailing behind a woman strutting around wearing nothing but ropes to hide her intimate areas, who held him on a leash. “Yeah, I can see that.” he muttered, his eyebrows edging towards his hairline.

“That’s just one of the reasons I like it here.” Clarke continued, her own eyes scanning the square of deviants and what she would have once called freaks. 

“They look... great, but what about the kids? And the old people?”

Clarke made a ‘tch’ sound, growing tired of this game of twenty-one questions. She was far more concerned with what Bellamy was even doing here in the first place. “It’s not law, but it’s a widely-accepted rule that elders dress modestly, for everyone else’s comfort. That’s why Titus was wearing that long robe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And we send our children off into the woods until they come back. Or don’t.”

“Mm-hm- _what?!”_

Clarke grinned. “Relax. At age eight we drop them off in the woods, monitored by what we call Watchers, who ensure they develop normally. With the help of the earth of course.”

Bellamy looked at Clarke like she’d lost it.

“Our warriors’ human socialization pauses at eight. From then on, until they are twelve and allowed to return, we let the woods raise them. Many of them don’t come back, either dead or turned rogue. Those that do are strong, sturdy. At one with the land.”

“So you’re telling me all these people around us basically lived like animals for four years of their lives?”

“Yes. If you’re so interested talk to Lexa, she survived her years by following racoons around and stealing the meat they scavenged for.”

At the mention of the Commander’s name, Bellamy stopped walking. “That’s fascinating. Maybe I should ask that bitch what drugs she has you on to make you trust her too.”

And there is was. Clarke knew it was only a matter of time, but she still couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline in her veins, the boiling off her blood, at the insults of her mate. “Bellamy.” Clarke said calmly, turning to face him completely and hoping no one would stop to watch the Commander of Death dish out a lecture to a hostile Sky Person. Blind hope.

“I know what she did was wrong.”

“She forced us to kill innocent people.”

“She did what you would have done in her position too.” Clarke returned, a little more loudly than she’d planned. A few heads turned in the duo’s direction, and the blonde shook her head and marched forward, beckoning Bellamy to follow.

“Look, whatever. She still betrayed us and she’s an enemy. Why did-“

“Why did I stay? Why haven’t I told any of you about where I am? Because I’m happy here, Bellamy. Scouts told me Pike was Chancellor now. I don’t want to live in an Arkadia run by him.”

Bellamy moved to stand in front of Clarke, glaring down at her but quivering in his boots. He was met with the hard stare of both Clarke and the beast she wore on her head, and even a soldier like him was no match for the mighty Mountain Slayer.

“Look,” Bellamy growled. “Pike’s a good man. He knows what’s best for us.”

 

“You have no right picking fights with Clans that have done you no wrong. What use is starting a war?”

Bellamy shifted awkwardly, but in doing so placed too much pressure on his injured leg and hissed in pain. Clarke cursed and looked down to find the bandages now soaked in blood, and Bellamy unable to stand on it completely. “We’ll discuss this later. Your leg needs treatment.”

Without stopping to help him, Clarke turned on her heel and waltzed back in the direction of her tower, leaving Bellamy to limp helplessly behind her. 

***

Upon arriving back, Clarke sent Bellamy off to a guest room and arranged for a Healer to tend to his wound. By the time she had finished organising, it was late afternoon and Lexa was due to be done with her meeting at any minute.

Clarke had just emerged from a hot bath, hair still wet and naked body wrapped in snowy white furs when The Commander stalked into the room, practically burning the floor with every step.

“Hi.”

“Why aren’t you with Bellamy?” Lexa asked sarcastically, tossing her robes across the room as she marched into the bathroom, knocking against Clarke’s shoulder en route.

The blonde nodded to herself, as if accepting that this was just how it was going to be. Except it wasn’t.

“You’re talking to the Commander of Death, you know.” said Clarke, following Lexa into the small bathroom. Once there, she discovered that Lexa had already re-ignited the fire pit below the tub to heat the leftover water from Clarke’s rinse. 

“So you’ll spend all day between my legs but you won’t use the same bath water as me without boiling it first.”

“I’m boiling out your filth.” Lexa hissed, tapping her foot impatiently. Once the water had begun bubbling she tossed a bucket of it over the firepit to extinguish the flames, pacing the room while she waited for the water to cool.

“I think you’re a little on edge.” Clarke commented, an amused smile lighting up her features as she stood leaning against the doorway, watching her mate stalk the length of the bathroom like a captive animal.

“Perhaps a little.” 

Despite her obvious anger towards Clarke, Lexa still stripped down to nothing in front of her, her muscular, tattooed back turned to the blonde as she lowered herself into the tub and leaned back with a grunt.

Clarke smiled and dragged a stool over to the tub, ignoring Lexa’s scowl as she took a seat next to her, looking down for once. “You know you’re my only, Lexa.”

The Commander huffed and folded her arms over her chest beneath the water, hiding her breasts from Clarke for emphasis.

“Bellamy hasn’t told me why he’s here yet but he also hasn’t tried to kill me, so, cut him some slack.”

“I will ‘cut him some slack’ when he brings me Pike’s head.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen any time soon.”

Lexa pulled her medallion off her forehead and pressed it into Clarke’s outstretched palm. “Well then, tomorrow I expect him gone.” 

After putting the Medallion in its case on Lexa’s vanity, Clarke returned from the bedroom with a large bowl, which she promptly filled up with bathwater and held out for Lexa to wash her face with.

“Let him stay, Lexa.” said Clarke while the Commander scrubbed the paint off her face in the bowl. “He’s my friend.”

Lexa surfaced from the bowl, her face dripping and bare of her black cosmetic. As always, Clarke was amazed by how much younger Lexa looked without it, how much more innocent. “He is also a Sky Person.” Lexa murmured.

Clarke set the bowl aside and cupped one of Lexa’s cheeks with her hand, urging the brunette to look her in the eye. “Don’t be like Titus. I promise, we can trust him.”

Even as she said it Clarke knew Lexa wouldn’t believe her, she wasn’t even sure she believed herself. Regardless, Lexa offered a small smile, laying her own hand over the one Clarke held on her face. “Alright.”

The blonde smiled back, leaning forward to press their lips together. Lexa closed her eyes and melted into the kiss, feeling safe in Clarke’s possession once again.

“Now,” Clarke said when they pulled away. “Why don’t you let me ease your body a little?”

“I am yours, Wanheda.”

Clarke pulled the stool closer to the back of the tub so she sat facing Lexa’s tight braids. She pulled them loose, letting her furs fall down into her lap in the process, and ran her fingers through the locks briefly to separate them, scratching at Lexa’s scalp in that way she knew she loved.

Then, Wanheda began working Lexa’s shoulders, pressing her palms into the tense flesh and rubbing slow, firm circles. “How does that feel, hm?”

Lexa only offered a hum in answer, letting her eyes fall shut when Clarke moved her hands up to massage her neck, her fingers tracing the outline of her jaw. 

“I’m gonna make you feel much better when you get out…” She whispered against the shell of Lexa’s ear.

“You’ve already serviced me well today, Klark.” Lexa answered, turning around in the tub to face her mate. Her gaze fell to Clarke’s now exposed breasts, as full and enticing as always but Lexa forced herself to meet Clarke’s gaze.

She planted a kiss on the blonde’s forehead, then her nose, then finally her lips. “When I get out I will return the favour… And apologize for my behaviour today.”

Clarke shook her head and pulled Lexa back for yet another kiss, her tongue briefly swiping over the partially-healed bite mark from that morning. “It’s alright, I know you were just a little antsy. Just don’t act out line again, okay?”

Lexa felt her face grow hot at Clarke’s tone, the dominant edge to her voice creating a heat in more than one place.

“I’ll still take that favour though.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly just shameless yet adorable smut to fill in some gaps

_Dusk was setting over Polis, casting a warm orange glow over the huts and stalls that surrounded the tower. The once rowdy square was finally quieting down, as was the shuffling and bustling of Lexa’s staff outside Bellamy’s door. Despite the comforting, sleep-inducing calm, there was a few things he needed to address quietly, prior to retiring for the night._

_“I think Clarke and Lexa are... together.”_

_“What do you mean, you think? What have you been doing this whole time?”_

_Bellamy gripped his walkie talkie tighter in frustration, resisting the urge to raise his voice in defence and risk being caught. “It wasn’t super clear, Sir. But I’m pretty confident that’s the case. The Grounders bow to Clarke now.”_

_“Of course they do. Stupid savages, of course they see someone as advanced as she and think she’s better than them.”_

_“With all due respect,” Bellamy began. “I think they just respect her because she’s fucking their Commander.”_

_“Yeah? Well they’re gonna respect us more when we hold that bitch’s head above them. And Clarke’s too if she gets in the way.”_

_“That wasn’t part of the plan.”_

_“Plans change. I want you to keep gathering intel and report to me when a good time to advance is. Then, once you’ve taken her out, radio it back to us so we know.”_

_Bellamy spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, Chancellor.”_

 

***

 

The Commanders tumbled rather than walked out of the bathroom when Lexa was finished, their naked bodies struggling to navigate while pressed up so close to each other.

Lexa didn’t even bother drying herself; sometime between her massage and now one of her kisses had grown a little too intense, and now her dripping wet body was pinned beneath Clarke on the bed, the blonde straddling her hips. 

“I’m not dry, you might get wet again.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Clarke groaned, leaning down to lock lips with her mate, her hands on either side of her face. Really her words were hypocritical; the blonde couldn’t stop herself from moaning into the kiss, her tongue exploring Lexa’s mouth as thoroughly as she did this morning.

Below her, Lexa’s thighs parted on their own, each swipe of Clarke’s tongue rushing heat all through her body to her core between her hips, where it collected and grew to an inferno. She groaned and squeezed Clarke’s rear impatiently, a silent plea for her fire to be addressed.

And as much as Clarke wanted to, she did need to establish her dominance in one way or another. “Didn’t you say I already serviced you today?” She whispered against Lexa’s mouth. “Don’t be so greedy.”

Clarke sat up to admire Lexa, her eyes tracing over every last detail of the woman’s naked form below her. She noted the pleading eyes and wet, parted lips, quivering in anticipation. When Clarke ghosted her finger down Lexa’s neck, between her breasts and over her abs, she felt a trail of goose-bumps rise in its wake, and the body below it shiver with every prod.

Lexa was a cornered animal, and Clarke, like a starved lion, was on the hunt. But this prey of hers, it wasn’t fear she was exhibiting in her dilated eyes and strained breathing; this was the excitement she was simply trying to conceal. 

_“Beja, Klark…”_

“Shhh… Be good. Then you’ll get what you want.”

Lexa nodded, she understood immediately and was more than willing to oblige. She licked her lips and watched with wide eyes as Clarke moved to sit with her knees flanking Lexa’s head, the prize wet and dripping right above her face.

“Don’t bite~” Clarke purred in reference to the steamy morning they’d shared earlier.  
At this signal, Lexa pulled Clarke down by her thighs and shoved her tongue straight inside, forcing Clarke to shudder and grip the headboard in front of her. “Eager, hm..?” 

Lexa answered by pulling Clarke down even further, her tongue pressed so deep Clarke’s inner thighs grazed the Commander’s cheeks. But she still needed more. She withdrew and began lapping at Clarke’s clit, sloppily and without her normal rhythm; she’d been craving this taste all day, she didn’t have the will to perform her usual tricks.

She could only devote herself entirely to the task at hand, her hands rubbing slow circles into Clarke’s hips to relax her while she sucked greedily at her pearl. Wanheda was leaking, weakening, her thighs trembling around Lexa’s head while hushed whispers of encouragement urged her on.

As she reacquainted herself with Clarke’s flavour, Lexa became aware of her thighs dampening a dangerous amount, her own bud throbbing helplessly. She wanted to touch. she wanted to eat Clarke like she was her last meal while she fucked herself with her fingers; but Wanheda would never allow that. All she could hope was that she would deliver eventually.

And just as Lexa predicted, she did. 

It took sheer willpower to removed herself from above Lexa, crawling backwards down her body until Clarke was kneeling between the Commander’s legs. Clarke thumbed the heat between Lexa’s thighs for a moment, gauging her readiness, before nodding in satisfaction and licking the fluids from her fingers.

Clarke hoisted one of Lexa’s legs up so it rested on her shoulder, grunting in effort as she awkwardly manoeuvred herself into position. Lexa laughed and Clarke wasn’t sure whether it was adorable or infuriating. “You know this doesn’t work.”

“Yes it does.” Clarke denied, unable to keep herself from smiling shyly at the memory of the last time they’d tried this; an event that had ended in fits of giggles after Clarke gave up, complaining both of cramps from over-exertion and a lack of co-operation from ‘Commander cum-quick.’

The sight of Lexa moaning out in ecstasy after barely a few minutes of missionary was an image Clarke could never forget. But while it worked wonders for her, it was all too often a one-sided street.

“Today it’ll work.” Clarke said, determined. And finally, she managed to lock herself between Lexa’s thighs, the heat of her deprived partner pressing into her own. At the intimacy, Lexa blushed and averted her gaze, knowing full well from the smirk on Clarke’s face that she felt how drenched she was.

“Hey, look at me.” Clarke said, softly but with enough edge to her voice for Lexa to know it wasn’t a question. She returned her attention back to her mate, only to gasp when Clarke pushed her hips forward, her clit rolling over her partners.

One hand on Lexa’s hip to keep her still and the other holding her leg up, Clarke eased herself into a rhythm, ensuring both she and her partner got the satisfaction they needed. She wondered whether Lexa could feel her pulsing against her clit; she was already approaching her climax thanks to the service of Lexa’s mouth, but did her best to stay steady and restrict herself from grinding hard until she spilled all over The Commander’s thighs.

“Is it working yet..?” Clarke asked quietly, rocking her hips into Lexa as agonisingly slowly as she could while still allowing stimulation. 

Lexa’s eyes were closed, her hands gripping the furs beneath her like they were the only thing keeping her from falling off the earth. _“Sha… Nou hod op…”_ She breathed, and Clarke felt a new heat rise within her at the mesmerising beauty of her voice, the smooth way the once-foreign whispers escaped from that voluptuous mouth she so adored. 

_“Mm…”_

Clarke increased her pace, judging by the collective heat underneath her that had blossomed to a blaze so hot she was sweating, that they were both close. She gripped Lexa’s leg with both hands now, pressing a brief kiss to the side of it before jerking her hips back and forth shallowly, the pressure on each of their clits constant and utterly agonizing. 

Lexa squeezed her eyes shut and groaned so loud Clarke knew for certain she would be receiving both impressed and envious looks in the morning from those who heard her. Never disgust; to frown upon the intimacy of consenting adults, no matter what race or gender, was as confusing as it was blasphemous.

_“Ah, Klark, I’m-“_

But she was cut off by both her own and Clarke’s simultaneous moans as they reached their climax in unison, soaking each other in fluids and pressing as close as their bodies would allow them.

Clarke knew from experience how painful the post-orgasm sensitivity of this position was, so she removed herself from between Lexa’s legs slowly and carefully as to not hurt her. “See, I told you it would work…” she mused as she came to rest next to Lexa, both too drained and hot to bother cuddling but appreciating the closeness anyway.

Lexa sighed happily and turned to face Clarke, her flushed face and dishevelled hair making the blonde’s heart swell. “You were right…”

By now, total darkness surrounded the tower, and the fatigue of both the day and her most recent activity was taking its toll on the Commander of Death. She yawned, an action Lexa found herself mimicking, and pulled the thinnest of the many fur blankets on the bed over the two of them.

“We should sleep. We still have to figure out what to do with Bellamy.”

Lexa grimaced playfully. “Please don’t talk about Bellamy after you just came all over my-“

Clarke silenced her with a sloppy kiss, her face red with both embarrassment and the afterglow of their love-making. “I love you.” she managed to say through her quiet laughter.

“I love you too. _Reshop.”_

***

 

As usual, Lexa rose before Clarke in the morning, the sky a dull grey and missing the sun’s warmth. Last night the Commander had decided shortly before falling into a comfortable, post-coital sleep that she would take the matter of her Skaikru guest into her own, unbiased hands. While she trusted Clarke’s judgement with her life, she knew the former Sky Person was very fond of Bellamy, fond enough that Lexa felt it necessary to examine his intentions herself.

She didn’t wish to expose too much of herself to him, so Lexa dressed in full length pants and a shirt riddled with harnesses and straps, knives hidden here and there between them. She clicked her shoulder-guard into place beside her head and fastened her cape onto it before securing her Commander’s Medalion between her brows.

While Lexa wanted Bellamy to trust her, she also didn’t yet trust him, so as a final measure she slung her sheathed sword over her back to carry behind her, and set off into the hallway without waking her sleeping lover.

When she arrived at Bellamy’s quarters she was far less considerate; throwing the doors open and causing a previously sleeping, shirtless Bellamy to shriek in shock, scrambling for his pistol which had clattered to the floor next to his bed during his moment of panic.

“Calm yourself.” Lexa asserted, somewhat ironically considering she was poised ready to flee in case he aimed his weapon towards her. “I see your pistol has been returned to you. Leave it.”

Bellamy hesitated, a quivering hand debating over the gun on the floor for a moment, but in the end, he resisted and turned to face Lexa, panting and too sleepy to be hostile. “What are you doing here?”

“You’ll see. Dress yourself and meet me in square in half an hour. If you bring even a single Skaikru item you’ll be lucky if I don’t kill you on the spot.”

“Why should I? You betrayed us.”

Lexa stepped further into the room, holding her hands behind her back. “As I said, I apologise. I want to be on good terms with Skaikru and that starts with you.”

Bellamy shifted his jaw slightly. His eyes glanced for a fraction a second over to the walkie-talkie laying on his vanity, before settling back on the Commander. 

“I’ll also remind you I am Clarke’s lover.” Lexa said proudly. “I’m aware you two are very close. Surely you want to be on good terms with me too.”

The Commander knew from the defeated slump of Bellamy’s bare, freckled shoulders what his answer was. She turned to leave, her cape following her movements like a loyal pet. 

“Half an hour. Don’t be late.”


	5. Chapter 5

Lexa heard, rather than saw, Bellamy approach. It was a chore to see much of anything in the thick, morning fog that clouded the square where The Commander was waiting. When he was finally close enough to be seen, she noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt, save for his military jacket, open, with the sleeves slashed off to make it look more like a vest.

Clarke’s handiwork, Lexa concluded as she spied it clasped around his upper arm, was the large crocodile head; a hefty, ugly thing Lexa had spent many evenings persuading Clarke to get rid of, only to met with the same old ‘It was a gift’ or ‘I like it.’

“Don’t you guys get cold..?” Bellamy said, visibly shivering. Lexa refrained from blurting out: _No, because we are warriors, not pampered Skaikru gun-slingers._

“During our years in the woods we grow accustomed to low temperatures.” Lexa explained. “This is like a mere breeze to us.”

Bellamy nodded, somewhat unconvinced, but his mind was occupied with other things. “So, why am I out here so early?”

Lexa turned away, holding her hands behind her back as she walked. Bellamy followed and quickly noticed the similarities between yesterday’s discussion with Clarke; the tall way the women held themselves, chins high and backs straight, as if they had the entire universe at their feet.

“You’re here because I will admit, Bellamy, your presence here scares me. You have understandably hostile feelings towards me and I want to ease them, preferably before you make an attempt on my life.”

Bellamy gulped, the cold material of his concealed pistol freezing against his skin in accusation, hidden between his arm and the roof of the crocodile head’s mouth. “If I was here to kill you I would have done it by now.” he lied.

Around them, just barely visible through the fog, the market was slowly waking up; merchants trudging to their stalls and neatly arranging their newly crafted weapons, their freshly salted meats. 

“Well if you’re not here to overthrow me and elect Pike as the new ruler,” Lexa paused, turning on her heel to face Bellamy, who was limping behind her. “Why are you here?”

Bellamy licked his lips, searching for an answer. The one he found was in itself not a lie, but it wasn’t all that much better than the truth. In Lexa’s eyes, at least.

“I missed Clarke.”

The Commander suppressed her emotions, something she had acquired quite the talent for after years of practise. “Is that so?” she asked, turning away to continue on her walk through the square.

“Yes.” Bellamy confirmed. “We were close, once. We pretty much ran everything, back when we landed. Before-“

“Before we showed up.” Lexa supplied.

“Sort of. But also before the rest of the Ark showed up. The adults, and Farm Station. And Pike.”

“Pike.” Lexa echoed the name. “Tell me about him. I have only heard rumours.”

By now, Bellamy had partially forgotten he was on an observe and report mission, not a bitch-about-your-chancellor mission. But the two became mixed in his mind once the opportunity, one he’d admittedly been looking for, presented itself. 

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard, he hates Grounders.”

“Indeed. Why is that?”

“Grounders attacked his people when they first landed. And it’s just my guess but I don’t think he approves of your... ways.”

Lexa stifled a laugh. “Our ways?”

The fog had dissipated just a fraction in the time they’d been walking, and Bellamy could only just make out that they were headed to some kind of grassy clearing, at the edge of the square.

“You know, the whole animal kin thing. But the sex too. That too.”

“I heard differently. I heard he was quite the big fan of the sex thing. He is jealous, that’s why he hates us.”

Bellamy considered this for a moment; it was entirely plausible that this was the case, and if it was, then it explained why Pike was so obsessed with _leading_ the Coalition as opposed to completely wiping the Grounders out.

“Who knows.” He answered.

He followed Lexa through into the clearing, where he discovered they weren’t alone. A boy, no older than fourteen, stood engaged in a battle with the air, which he was slicing a wooden sword through. Bellamy threw a confused glance to Lexa, who scooped another fake sword out of a nearby weaponry box and tossed it at the Skaikru soldier’s feet.

“This is my second; Aden. I want you to fight him.”

Bellamy’s eyes flicked from the sword at his feet, to the boy almost half his size, to the Commander, then back to the sword. “Why?” was all he could manage.

“To prove to you that our primal connections are more than just savagery. We are warriors.”

A few feet away from him, Aden was in a battle stance, tiny but formidable. It reminded him of a certain other blonde he knew.

“What if I beat him?” Bellamy asked, retrieving the sword from the ground. “What if your warrior hardened by the wilderness loses to a Skaikru soldier?”

Lexa smirked, and Bellamy could hear the boy laughing to himself. “Then I’ll waltz right into Arkadia and let them kill me on the spot.”

“You’re very confident for someone putting their faith in a child.”

“We’ll see. Now fight.”

***

Clarke woke up to the hustling and bustling of the lively market in the square outside, and the lonely chill of a solo-occupied bed. Wanheda ‘s eyes fluttered open to note her partner’s absence, only to fall shut again at the offensively bright midday sun heating up the room.

Yet another delayed awakening caused by Lexa’s early morning adventures. At least there were no meetings today. At least not that Clarke knew of. 

But that wasn’t an excuse to slack off in bed all day, as appealing as that sounded to the Second Commander. She groaned and rolled out of bed, throwing on the nearest pair of pants. She slipped on a half-shirt that exposed most of her stomach, and fastened her Cougar pelt in its usual way on her back.

This truly was a lazy day.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t lazy enough to ignore the problem Lexa had understandably refused to discuss last night: Bellamy Blake. After trudging down the hallway to his chambers, Clarke half-heartedly knocked a fist against the door, a little harder when she received no response.

Impatient, she pushed the door open and narrowed her eyes at the sight she was met with: the bed. Empty. 

Clarke was quite possibly the only human for miles of Grounder territory that didn’t want Bellamy either gone, or dead. And being the blockhead Clarke knew he was, he most certainly wouldn’t have done the former without a fight.

A garbled buzzing noise interrupted Clarke’s internal panic, a foreign, technological sound that Wanheda’s ears had almost forgotten. Almost. 

The offending gadget was squelching away on the vanity, and the very second Clarke spotted it she seized it and darted off into the hallways in search of its owner. “Who are you?” she demanded into the receiver.

“What? Bellamy? Who is this?” a static voice responded.

_“Wanheda Kom Trikru.”_ Clarke spat back, the pieces clicking together in her head the moment she heard his voice. “Why did you send him here, Pike?”

 

No response.

 

“Answer me right now or I’ll torture Bellamy until he tells me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Following the directions a nearby guard had signed to her, Clarke marched through the hallways, even the toughest of warriors immediately stepping aside to avoid Wanheda’s fury. “Don’t underestimate me.”

 

“You poor girl.” The walkie-talkie buzzed back. “It is you who have underestimated us.”

***

“I must admit,” Lexa laughed, watching in utter delight as Bellamy was bested for what must have been the 20th time in a row by her second. “Your resilience is admirable.”

“Although foolish.” Aden added, looking down at his sparring partner, the tip of his weapon poking into Bellamy’s neck just as his Commander’s had done to his yesterday morning.

Bellamy himself chuckled and batted the sword away, rising to his feet yet again. After hours of this ridiculous game, the man was bruised, beaten, but satisfied. It was infuriating, to be shown up by someone so young, but admittedly impressive.

“Okay,” Bellamy sighed. “I admit it. You guys are strong. I’ve had enough.”

“Not yet.” Lexa denied. She stood up from the rock she’d been observing from, accepting Aden’s offering of his sword. “Well done. You are dismissed for the next two days.”

The young warrior nodded, his Commander’s approval lighting up his face like a child in a candy store, before scurrying off likely to boast to his friends.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy asked, watching Lexa with uncertainty, but no longer fear.

The Commander flashed a genuine smile, a sight usually reserved for Clarke, before shifting into a battle stance. “Now, you fight me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Bellamy snorted. “If I can’t even beat a Grounder kid how am I supposed to beat the Grounder Commander?”

 

“You won’t. But I want you to try. There is a strength in you, Bellamy. I want you to show me.”

 

The man beamed with pride, suddenly understanding why Aden valued Lexa’s praise so much. While he received this type of encouragement from Pike, on the odd occasion, it felt different coming from this powerful, dangerous woman in front of him. It was a feeling he could get used to.

“No holding back?” Bellamy asked, readying himself for combat.

The duo exchanged a look of mutual respect, guest and Commander, Sky-Person and Grounder. Lexa was only just shifting her weight ready to pounce when loud, untamed footsteps steadily increased in volume nearby, before muting right as the offending feet reached the grass of the clearing.

“Clarke?” The fighters both asked in unison.

Wanheda shot her mate an apologetic look, before tossing Bellamy’s walkie-talkie straight at his exposed chest, resulting in a quiet ‘Ow’ followed by the thump of the device hitting the ground between his feet.

“Tell her, Bellamy.” Clarke ordered, visibly shaking. Her former friend opened his mouth to explain himself but Clarke repeated her statement, loud enough to cause Lexa to recoil back in shock. _"Tell her."_

Bellamy glanced at The Commander, innocently, heart-breakingly confused. At Clarke, manipulated beyond repair at whatever Pike had told her, and be it true or false, he was still a traitor. He debated for a moment reasoning with the blonde, but by the furious screeching of the walkie-talkie below him Pike had, and still was, delivered quite the speech, more than likely spilling some secrets Bellamy knew Clarke would never forgive him for.

So he made his choice. While Clarke watched in utter horror, Bellamy snatched up his walkie-talkie, and held down the button that allowed the person on the other end to hear the following scene.

And this was that scene. 

Before Lexa even knew what was happening, before Clarke even had the chance to scream, Bellamy yanked his pistol out from its hiding place. He trained its barrel on Lexa. He clicked off the safety.

And then he pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* the dreaded cliffhanger! 
> 
> I still need to figure out whether I want Bellamy to redeem himself or keep being an ass. We'll see. As always, thank you for leaving comments and kudos!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, it's really not all that bad but some readers may find this chapter.. icky. I promise it's all consensual, really, but if prostitution/strip clubs aren't your thing I wouldn't recommend reading.

_Click._

Lexa tilted her head, confused.

_Click._

Clarke wordlessly reached for the hilt of the dagger strapped to her leg.

_Click. Click. Click._

“Bellamy? What’s going on? Is The Commander dead or not?! Answer me boy!” The walkie-talkie squelched.

Time froze for a moment as the situation became clear in Bellamy’s head.

He tossed the useless gun behind him. “No.” He stated into the receiver, before dropping it at his feet completely. He let Clarke tackle into him, her blade pressed to his throat, a incoherent stream of curses, threats, and obscenities falling from her mouth. He didn’t address her. His eyes were trained only on the woman that was supposed to be dead.

Instead, she was smirking, far more calm than her raging bull of a partner. “I thought I told you to leave you Skaikru gadgets behind?”

At the sound of her voice, Clarke stopped her tantrum, turning her head to Lexa in a similar state of confusion as the man she was about to slit the throat of. 

“I was starting to trust you Bellamy, what a shame.” The Commander sighed, drawing her sword out from the sheath on her back.

“What happened to my bullets.” 

“Didn’t Clarke tell you what my animal is?” Lexa asked, still smiling. “I lived with raccoons for years. I learnt that what’s yours is mine. So naturally, I snatched all the bullets out of your guns, but returned the guns to you. As promised.”

In an instant, all of Clarke’s rage and confusion swelled into pride, which she wore on her face in the form of a grin even wider than Lexa’s. “Holy shit.” She breathed uncharacteristically, but given the situation, it was understandable that she was just a tad bit off the rails. 

Clarke twisted Bellamy around so she was holding him in front of her, the blade still scratching the olive skin of his neck. “What should we do with him?”

Lexa’s eyes fell upon the discarded walkie-talkie. She gestured for Clarke to toss it to her, which she did, Bellamy remaining still and silent despite the opportunity to escape. He knew as well as Lexa did that he wouldn’t get far.

After a brief tinkering to get it to work, Lexa managed to hear Pike’s voice clearly from the other end. “Bellamy you useless git! if you don’t-“

“Excuse me. Am I speaking with Chancellor Pike of Arkadia?”

“Who the hell are you? Where’s Bellamy?”

Lexa’s jaw shifted in frustration. “Bellamy is here. He’s fine. For now.”

“Are you gonna kill him?”

Clarke and Lexa exchanged a glance. For all her anger, Clarke seemed uncertain. Lexa couldn’t in good conscience decide anything without her partner’s confidence. “No. Not yet at least.”

There was a moment of silence from the other end. “Why are you still alive, Commander.”

“I outsmarted your assassin. I will outsmart you too if you dare make a move on Polis.”

“Bullshit. Bellamy is just a dumbass.”

“You should have more faith in him. No, he is... not the brightest, but he is a warrior.”

From beneath Clarke’s dagger, Bellamy shifted awkwardly. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened, in shock like someone after an earthquake, and the mercies Lexa seemed willing to grant only confused him more. This was the Commander, the warrior who’d abandoned them at Mount Weather, killed her own guards, and was not above executing anyone who merely inconvenienced her.

“Are you surprised?” Clarke asked, quiet enough for Bellamy to hear but not to disturb the conversation Lexa had seemingly struck up with Pike regarding both Bellamy’s fate and a hypothetical incoming invasion.

“Why doesn’t she just kill me?” Bellamy answered, running his gaze over the sharp length of Lexa’s sword, glinting brilliantly in the sun.

“She won’t kill you without my permission.”

“Then give it to her.”

“Stop it.” Clarke hissed, pressing the blade harder into Bellamy’s neck. “Don’t take your life for granted.”

After a few more seconds of murmuring, Lexa huffed one final insult into the walkie-talkie before dropping it at her feet and piercing her sword through it, killing it in a sad crackle and fizz. “Bellamy. I’m going to give you two options, because you showed me strength today, and I don’t want to waste it.”

Both the former and current Sky People looked to The Commander expectantly.

“First, I will return you to Arkadia, with a message for Pike carved into your back by my knife. You will live but I will personally see to it that you are mutilated beyond repair, so your people know my power.”

Bellamy gulped, his Adam’s Apple bobbing dangerously close to Clarke’s blade. “What’s the second one?”

“You will stay here, and serve me.” Lexa stated flatly.

Before Clarke could open her mouth to complain Lexa raised one hand to stop her, pushing her sword back into its sheath on her back. “You aren’t a villain, Bellamy. I don’t think it takes much to see that.”

“I was going to kill you.”

“You were taking the smartest course of action. You thought Clarke was going to kill you. And she probably was. You might as well die a hero to Arkadia, no?”

Lexa’s kindness was as unnerving as it was off-putting. But even Bellamy had to admit it was infinitely better than the alternative. He grimaced at the thought of the horrors the Grounders would put him through, before returning him broken, butchered, and barely alive back to Pike’s office.

“I want to stay here.” he blurted out.

Lexa nodded. “Let him go, Clarke.”

The blonde didn’t move. “I don’t trust him.”

The Commander folded her arms in thought, knowing better than to convince Clarke on her own to change her mind. “He can be trusted, I’ll show you. Follow me.”

 

***

 

If there was any confusion within the trio regarding why Lexa, who’d interacted with Bellamy for whopping total of roughly five hours, was trying to convince Clarke, who’d survived through thick and thin with him, that he was trustworthy; it fell apart the second they arrived at Lexa’s destination.

Clarke had been to one of these places only once, for Lexa’s birthday, which had ended rather pleasantly for both of them. It was upon entry that fuzzy, intoxicated memories flashed through Clarke’s mind; the taste of liquor on Lexa’s lips as they kissed at a booth, their clothes magically falling to the ground to be forgotten about.

“Remember?” Lexa asked, and a healthy red blossomed in Clarke’s cheeks. She was walking behind Bellamy, the blade pressed to his back in case he tried anything.

But Bellamy was far too entranced by the dimly-lit room he’d been escorted too; the only light came from wall-mounted lanterns, casting eerie, shivering shadows behind the stark-naked Grounders that danced to the live-music on the various, circular stages scattered around the room. At the bottom of the stages, more Grounders stood watching; not yelling or reaching out, simply appreciating the performance.

“Where are we?”

“Oh, forgive me, I forgot to ask.” Lexa piped up suddenly, turning to face Bellamy. “This is a female one, would you rather we go to the male one on the other side of the village?”

Bellamy wanted to pursue his question again, but finding himself drawn to a particularly attractive dancer alone at the back of the room near the drummers, he sighed and shook his head. “No. This is…good.”

Following Bellamy’s stare, Lexa spied the dancer he was so enamoured by and smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with Clarke. “Bellamy could you wait here for a moment?”

The man nodded, his eyes still locked on the woman at the back.

Clarke took the opportunity to withdraw her knife from his back, tucking it away and following Lexa over to the back of the room. “This feels wrong, somehow.”

“Trust me, Clarke. If this works he’ll never want to leave. And if it doesn’t we’ll go with the other option.”

Lexa reached for Clarke’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. After all the nonsense, it was high time the problem of Bellamy was solved; Lexa had a hundred and one ways she wanted to show her appreciation for Clarke’s protectiveness earlier, but although this was the correct place to do so, it wasn’t quite the time.

“Excuse me, miss.”

The dancer didn’t hear Lexa’s greeting over the beating of the drums behind her, but spotted her looking expectantly at her from below. “Heda,” she began, leaping down from her stage to stand face to face with Lexa. “And Wanheda, wow… What are you doing here?’

Bellamy’s jaw dropped as he watched Lexa and Clarke discuss something with the woman, completely indifferent to her nakedness. The Commanders spoke to the exposed dancer as though she was a business partner, exchanging smiles and laughter every now and then for reasons Bellamy didn’t want to think about.

“So, as you can imagine, it’s not the most ideal situation.” Lexa concluded at the end of her explanation, pointing behind her in Bellamy’s direction.

The soldier felt his heart leap into his throat when the woman peered over Clarke’s shoulder to meet his gaze, licking her lips.

“I’ll do it.” The dancer agreed to both the Commanders. “If he wants to, that is.”

“What do you charge?” Clarke asked.

The dancer snorted comically. “With all due respect Wanheda, look at him. He’s gorgeous. _I_ should be paying _you._ ” And with that, she waltzed confidently past the Commanders, swaying her wide hips as she did so.

Clarke and Lexa watched as the woman shook Bellamy’s hand, exchanged words with him, and grabbed his hand to lead him out of the establishment, not bothering to dress herself before she left.

“That was cheap, Heda.” Clarke mused, pulling her mate closer to her by her hip. 

“It’s not my fault his weakness is so obvious.” Lexa replied. “Did you see his face when we walked in?”

Clarke laughed, rising to her tip-toes to peck Lexa’s cheek. “He looked just like you do when I put on a show for you.”

It was Lexa’s turn to blush, but thankfully much of its hue was hidden by her face paint. “You do put on a good show.”

“If you were right and this works...” Clarke purred, rising again to whisper in Lexa’s ear. “I’ll give you one later~”

***

That evening, Lexa found herself in Bellamy’s room again, but this time only after receiving verbal permission following her knock.

When she arrived, she was greeted with the sight of a naked Bellamy and the dancer, both of them wrapped up in the fur blankets to hide their vitals, goofy smiles adorning both their features.

It was a cute sight, but Lexa wanted to make this a brief as possible; she had a dancer of her own waiting for her in her chambers. “So, Bellamy.” The Commander began, standing as staunch as possible. “Will you serve me as a warrior, will you fight for Polis and protect my people as you would your own? Do you declare Arkadia an enemy?"

Bellamy feigned considering the offer for a moment, until a playful ‘ugh’ and a series of kisses from the woman next to him shattered his façade in a fit of laughter. When he calmed down, he answered as seriously as his predicament would allow, which was thankfully just enough for Lexa to believe him.

_“Sha, Heda.”_

Satisfied, Lexa nodded and took her leave, closing the door behind her both figuratively and literally. Leaning back on the door, The Commander loosed a heavy sigh of relief. But she didn’t loiter long, she couldn’t keep her waiting, or she’d have one grumpy little Lion to deal with she arrived back at her room…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd, that's all! Thank you for reading and thank you to all those who left kudos and comments, I hope you enjoyed it! I wanted to make this longer but I've been working on something else, something much longer and better than this thing ;)
> 
> Yeah I know the ending is lame af but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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